I just finished writing an essay about William Maxwell, an American writer whose work I admire very much.
I love the tradition of Dickens, where even the most minor walk-on characters are twitching and particular and alive.
Taking on challenging projects is the way that one grows and extends one's range as a writer, one's technical command, so I consider the time well-spent.
Everything takes me longer than I expect. It's the sad truth about life.
Children have very sharp powers of observation - probably sharper than adults - yet at the same time their emotional reactions are murky and much more primitive.
On the other hand, I mean, that is what writers have always been supposed to do, was to rely on their own devices and to - I mean, writing is a lonely business.
